


Save the Best for Last

by DelightfullyHuman



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 02:44:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelightfullyHuman/pseuds/DelightfullyHuman
Summary: The last one standing on the soil of Coldwind Farms, Jake never thought he would be bargaining for his life quite like this.





	Save the Best for Last

The night was chilly but not bitterly cold. There was a slight breeze, enough to make the drying corn stalks whisper as the survivors darted between the rows. The killer was one Jake hadn’t run across before, but he had heard the rumors around the campfire- a masked man wielding a knife, fast and deathly silent.

He had witnessed it the past hour or so. He hadn’t seen the man himself, but had seen evidence of his damage as he had pulled his teammates off of hooks and helped patch up the long cuts along their shoulders and arms. But as much as they scrambled, he picked them off one by one, until it was just Jake left, creeping silently along the outskirts of the farm. He could see the hook where Meg had just been sacrificed, and he swore he could see blood drip from it. The killer most likely would be away from it now, but Jake didn’t want to linger. They had repaired enough generators that the hatch had opened, somewhere. That was his best shot.

Loathe to cross open areas, Jake darted through the remains of the cornfield, dry leaves scratching at his cheeks. He paused behind a wall, listening hard, and, hearing nothing, continued on.

Instead of growing nervous that he hadn’t crossed paths with the killer, he felt confident. Surely he would have found Jake by now if he were competent. Maybe he just didn’t care. There was the possibility that he had found the hatch first, but Jake would deal with that when he got there.

The low rushing sound of air that signaled the hatch was a welcome one, and Jake peered around a wall to find it open and unguarded. He hadn’t considered himself that lucky, but he’d take it. Maybe he’d even give up a good offering to the Entity next time. He approached the hatch, pausing when he noticed a trunk nearby. It might be worth checking for supplies. And he had been lucky so far… With a quick glance around, Jake headed for the trunk, prying it open and beginning to rummage around inside. It was hard without much light to see by, but Jake could tell most valuable items by feel now. His hand brushed against something that piqued his interest, and just as he started to pull it out, he was seized.

It felt like the breath had been punched from his lungs as he was lifted up by strong arms and tossed over a broad shoulder. His heart hammered in his chest and he thrashed in the killer’s grip. There had been no warning, no sound, nothing, and that terrified him more than anything else.

Despite the terror that felt like a hard fist to his gut, he managed to find his voice.

“Come on!” He shouted. “The hatch is right there!”

Bile churned in his stomach at the prospect of being hooked with no choice but to hang there and wait for the Entity to kill him.

“Don’t be a fucking dick!” Jake tried to elbow the back of the killer’s head, but ended up being the one jostled as he was thrown to the ground. Stunned, he wondered briefly if the killer intended to kill him by his own hand. He stood up, hoping to still escape, but the killer simply shoved him down again, into the dusty soil of the farm.

He hadn’t been stabbed yet, even though the knife was there, prominent in the killer’s hand. He stood again, only to be thrown down a third time, now with a boot resting firmly on his chest, keeping him down. Jake swallowed and tried to catch his breath, finally looking up with eyes clear enough to take in the features of his murderer-to-be.

He was tall, that was certain, with wide shoulders. If he had been shorter, he could have been described as stocky, but his height just made him monstrous. He wore dark blue coveralls, like a gas station attendant would wear, and a pale latex mask. There were holes for eyes, but Jake couldn’t see them- it looked like black pits stared back at him, unseeing, unfeeling.

Jake reached up to grasp the ankle of the boot that was crushing into his chest, hoping he could budge it- pressure was the one thing he could hardly stand, but the boot might as well have been made of stone.

“Just do it,” he gritted out, his fingers catching in the laces of those boots as he uselessly tried to free himself. He twisted his hips and kicked his legs to try to upset the killer’s balance, but he stood stock still and just stared down at Jake.

“What do you want?” Jake hissed, exasperated, exhausted, still terrified in spite of his bravado.

The killer leaned down to grab the front of his jacket, stepping off of him and hauling him up. He deposited Jake onto his knees, shoving for emphasis. As he let go, he pointed downward firmly, as if Jake was a dog.

_Stay._

Jake obeyed, his hands curled into white knuckled fists that rested on his thighs. This had never happened to him before. Was he being toyed with? Tormented, with no way to fight back?

Isn’t that exactly what these trials were, anyway?

The killer passed his knife, large and wickedly sharp, to his left hand, and with his right, opened his coveralls to his navel, revealing the black t-shirt underneath. He opened it further, revealing worn jeans. He opened the belt, then the first button, then stopped.

Jake got the idea by that point. He hesitated, wary of the knife that hung close to his face, distrusting of the man who wielded it.

“What, you want me to blow you?” Jake asked, swiping his tongue over dry lips. He wasn’t the best option, and he was long out of practice, but maybe this killer didn’t care.

“Will you let me get the hatch if I do?”

No answer came from the lifeless mask, but the knife stayed where it was. Even if he wasn’t going to let Jake escape, there wasn’t exactly much of a choice.

He straightened up a little, reaching out to place his hands on the killer’s hips, his fingertips ghosting over the belt. He felt for the zipper, unwilling to draw out the process and let the killer see that his usually sure hands were shaking.

Was this a joke? Something that could be used against him? But it seemed a little more serious than a locker room prank or an excuse to dole out violence- no excuse was needed here.

The killer wore no briefs beneath his jeans, and the zipper revealed a light trail of faun colored down as it parted. He was half hard already, his cock thick with blood and fairly large. It didn’t surprise Jake much; the man himself was huge. It was only fair that he was proportional. But everything seems larger than it is when you’re on your knees, Jake mused. He parted the jeans, his hands brushing against the teeth of the zipper as he wrapped his hand around the man’s length. He carefully pulled it free, shuffling closer in order to reach. He parted his lips and extended his tongue just a bit, letting the head of the man’s cock slide in and out of his mouth, right over his tongue.

The killer could most likely feel how ragged Jake’s breath was coming, but if it was his fear or his ministrations that made his cock harden, he couldn’t say. He kept a gloved hand loose around the base as he bobbed his head shallowly, keenly aware of the knife next to his ear. He could almost hear how sharp it was, and he shifted closer to the killer, huddling against his legs like it could offer him any protection from the weapon.

He opened his lips a little wider to accommodate the girth of the shaft as he slid his mouth down farther on that cock. He found that he was grateful that this particular killer had a cock that was fairly normal, and his tongue laved the bottom of the head in appreciation.   
  
There was little reaction from the killer, and Jake was beginning to worry that his rusty skill just wasn’t cutting it. He was almost comforted when a large hand gripped his hair in a tight fist to hold him still. He held himself obediently, extending his tongue out to taste more as the killer began to shallowly thrust.   
  
Jake squeezed his hand around the remainder of the shaft that wouldn’t fit in his mouth, something else for the killer to fuck into besides his face. He closed his eyes, tilting his head up just a bit to try to relieve some of the pain from the fist in his hair.   
  
A particularly deep thrust made him gag, and his watery eyes opened to see that mask was staring down at him, emotionless. The killer didn’t even slow down, but made him gag again before pulling back.   
  
The grip loosened enough to allow Jake more movement, and he began to suck on the killer’s cock in earnest, hoping for a quick end.   
  
It happened after only another minute or so; the killer’s thrusts turned shallow again, and suddenly Jake’s tongue was coated in thick liquid, warm and bitter, and he swallowed several times, even going as far as to chase the taste with kittenish licks to the killer’s flesh. He didn’t particularly care for the flavor, his intent being to curry further favor with this killer, but he found he didn’t mind it terribly.   
  
The whole thing could have been much worse.   
  
He scrubbed a hand through his hair after the killer let go to redress himself, the knife mysteriously out of sight. Jake tried not to watch, but the only other thing he had to focus on was the concerning heat between his own legs.   
  
Fortunately, he didn’t have too much time to dwell on it. Once the coveralls were again covering him from head to toe, the killer grabbed Jake by the back of his collar, like he would scruff a kitten, and shoved him back the way they had come, towards the hatch.   
  
Jake took the hint for what it was and ran, corn stalks whispering behind him as he tore through the field and leapt into the hatch, the bitter salt taste still on his lips. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have no explanation. Come holler at me on Twitter @BigBaraBitches


End file.
